I beam back at him. He kisses my cheek and then bends over his pages, further protecting them, as he uncaps his pen with his teeth. He draws quickly, and I have to urge him to slow down. I don’t mind the rain. He focuses on the dove-covered tree. “We have maybe two hours until sundown,” he says, after nearly twenty minutes of silence. “How are you doing? Are you cold?”
“A bit, but I’m okay. There’s only one more destination marked on our map.”
“Do we win a prize if we check off every box?”
“The grand prize.”
He raises an eyebrow as he caps his pen. “Then we’d better do it.”
We admire his drawing together. I like it even better than the real thing. I only see the beauty, not the accompanying fear. Everything Josh touches is beautiful to me.
He puts his sketchbook away as I search for our map. “Oh, no!” I glance in the direction of the convenience store. “I must have dropped it while I was running.”
“Do you remember its name?” He takes the umbrella and holds it over my head. “Not the convenience store. The name of our final destination?”
“Yeah, of course.”
Josh smiles. He unbuttons my coat, places his fingers against my collarbone, and fishes out my necklace from below my dress.
It’s incredibly sexy.
He holds up the compass. “Then we’ll find the Right Way.”
Chapter seventeen
We take the metro north and emerge into a neighbourhood that’s emptier and dirtier. No one exits the station with us, and there are no street signs for our last destination.
“Is this the right place?” I ask.
Josh scratches his head. “I think so. Let’s try up there.”
He points towards an area that looks less barren. We hike up the street, sharing the umbrella as best we can. The drizzle has turned into a fine mist. Weeds spill out through ruptures in the sidewalk. Everything feels abandoned. We finally chance upon a long hill with several grouped sets of stairs and escalators. Escalators. I’ve never seen them outside like this, sandwiched between residential apartments and souvenir shops. But despite these promising signs…the street is still deserted.
As we ride the rickety escalators, the mist gets lighter and lighter. And as we reach the top of the hill, it evaporates into a clear sky. Sunshine.
We tilt our heads backwards and marvel at the heavens.
There’s another, smaller hill across the street. “Looks like it’s right up there,” I say.
With a burst of energy, Josh scoops me over his shoulder and runs towards it. I scream with laughter. He shouts with mad glee. I pound on his back with my fists, but he doesn’t set me down until we’re through the gates and on the summit. He throws up his arms in triumph. “I win!” And then he buckles like a weak hinge. “I’m dying.”
I grin. “Serves you right.”
Josh lifts his head. “Oh, yeah?” And then he sees my expression change as I notice what lies behind him. He turns to look. His entire body straightens in astonishment.
We’re not just at the top of the final hill. We’re at the top of Barcelona.
The jumble of the city stretches to every corner of the horizon, sharp rectangles of brown and grey and yellow and red. Towering above it all are the spires and construction cranes of Sagrada Família, but directly below us, there’s a seemingly endless path winding its way down through a landscape of Mediterranean greens.
Parc Güell.
In the far distance, we can see the turrets and sculptures that Gaudí designed for this park – and its accompanying crowds – but, up here, everything is trees and serenity. The air is so fresh and clean that my lungs are surprised. For the first time in months, the world stills. Since before Paris, since before New York…actually, I can’t remember the last time I felt such an overwhelming sense of calm.
“We must’ve come up the back way,” I say.
“We should lose the map more often.”
We wander down the main path in silence, our hands clasped together. I’m in awe. Several minutes pass before we see anyone else. It’s a young vendor with a blanket on the ground, attempting to sell feathery earrings to two Japanese women. Josh nods towards a narrow side-path through the trees. We take it.